Avengers: The Hangover
by Jullian Mortimer
Summary: When Tony Stark invents a new kind of alcohol, the Avengers experience a New Years Eve that they will never forget... if only they can remember it.


**Avengers**

**The Hangover**

Blinding pain and a wave of nausea woke Tony Stark. Tony normally knew how to handle his liquor, but the new cocktail he'd invented the night before… well, he considered it an alcoholic game changer in the same way his Arc Reactor technology could change clean fuel sources for the world. Only this would revolutionize frat parties instead of warfare.

Tony rushed to the toilet. He didn't have time to observe his surroundings. He didn't even have time to wonder where the bottom half of his Ironman armor went. There he was, nude from the waist down, clad in armor from the waist up (minus the helmet), puking into the hotel toilet.

Only after he finished did Tony decide to wrap a towel around his waist and have a look around, maybe even try to figure out where he was. The odds that Pepper would approve of the previous night were pretty low. That was going to take a lot of flowers, and maybe a trip to Europe, to fix.

It was clearly the master suite of whatever hotel he found himself in. The bathroom had been posh with black marble for the toilet and sink, grey tile, and flattering lighting. After he wandered out, Tony was standing in a large living room area, surveying the chaos around him. At the center of the room was a giant crystalline sphere that seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. The window to the balcony was shattered. The glass debris lead straight to the crystal ball.

Steve Rogers was passed out on the floor nearby, shirtless. His blond hair was tussled and had a streak of cheap red hair dye giving him a bizarre stripe. A series of pornographic sketches were drawn on his back in magic marker. A few phone numbers, too.

When Tony entered the room, Steve sat up. Now Tony could see fake kitten whiskers drawn onto Steve's face and the worlds "prime real estate" drawn onto his abs, with an arrow pointing downwards beneath them.

"What the hell happened?" Steve asked.

"Absolutely no clue," Tony replied.

Steve looked confused, "Was I… drunk last night?"

"Looks like it," Tony stumbled a little further into the room, making sure to avoid any broken glass with his bare feet.

"But I can't get drunk," Steve explained. "It's a side effect of the serum…"

Tony stopped to consider it a moment. Thinking made his head hurt. "Well, the new drink I invented must have sidestepped that. I really am amazing."

"So I can thank you for this hangover?"

"You can thank me for getting the stick out of your ass," Tony countered.

Their little argument was cut short as a closet on the far side of the room burst open. A haggard Thor wobbled out with his hair in terrible disarray. His cape was also missing. Then a turkey ran out of the same closet squawking.

"Thor?" Steve glanced at the turkey. "Did you…?"

"Of course not!" Thor sounded repulsed. "That fowl was my prize from the games last night!"

Tony felt a little relieved, "So you remember what happened?"

Thor nodded, "Most of it, at least. It was an evening to be sung of for the ages!"

After saying this, Thor promptly vomited into a nearby potted plant. The sound reminded Tony of a yak bellowing. Then Thor smiled, his teeth still somehow perfect.

A light grumbling brought Tony's attention over to the couch, where he saw Banner. Bruce was laying in his boxers, a pair of boxers about thirty sizes too large, with a lampshade on his head. He didn't speak so much as make non-committal noises for a few seconds before returning to a state of unconsciousness.

"Right. Looks like most of the gang is here," Tony noted. "Where are Clint and Natasha?"

Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov were in another room of the suite altogether. The bedroom was hidden behind a set of wooden double doors. Warm morning light flooded in from generous windows, which lead outside to a balcony with a beautiful view of the ocean. The entire palette of the room was made up of soft earth tones and chocolate-colored furniture.

The bed was a king size and incredibly comfortable. Beige silk sheets wrapped around Clint and Natasha's naked bodies. Neither of them were awake just yet. Then, the sound of Thor erupting from the closet made their eyes snap open.

Both of them remained perfectly still. It was only because of their extensive spy training that their facial expressions managed to be neutral. They were frozen in a stalemate that couldn't be broken.

At least, not until Tony stumbled into the room.

"Holy crap!" Tony shouted. Then he turned back to speak to the others, "Hey guys, it finally happened."

Steve and Thor both arrived at the doorway.

Steve promptly looked away, "Fondue?"

Thor beamed with pride, as did Tony.

Natasha was quick to make sure she was covered, "Nothing happened!"

Clint looked a little too satisfied, so Natasha kicked him out of the bed. As he fell out, Tony and Thor both saw more of Hawkeye than they ever wanted to. This finally got them both to look away.

Bruce limped into the room as Clint hid behind a pillow, Natasha continuing to glare at everyone. An awkward silence began to hang in the air.

"Do you all want to leave, so I can find my clothes?" Natasha finally asked.

An abrupt banging on wood stole all attention away. Everyone's eyes snapped across the room to a white door on the far side, presumably leading to another bathroom. Tony astutely noticed that the door was wedged shut using a chair and some strategically-placed duct tape. He recognized it as a concoction he'd invented while away at college, a method he'd used to lock up a handful of people during wild parties.

Tony made his way across the room and began to dismantle the trap. Natasha rolled her eyes, still unhappy with the number of men in the room. The banging on the door continued.

"Does anyone remember what happened last night?" Steve asked, still going to great lengths to avoid looking directly at Natasha.

Thor shook his head, "It would appear we all imbibed too many spirits."

"Everything's a blank," Natasha admitted.

The door finally opened. Tony took a step back as Maria Hill walked out. She wore an elegant black evening gown that showed off the sculpted contours of her figure. After three long strides into the room she faced Tony and promptly punched him square in the face.

Stark fell to the ground. Steve couldn't resist a chuckle. Thor continued to look proud.

"So, I'm guessing I locked you in there?" Tony mused.

Maria gave him a slight kick in the ribs before he could manage to stand. Tony stayed down, the dizziness of his own hangover making it that much more difficult to recover his sense of gravity.

Maria held up a phone, "We've been called in. Director Fury has something to show you."

The S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier was presently docked at a port near New York City. It was there that Maria Hill took the group, on the orders of Director Fury. A cursory glance at the state of downtown New York suggested that things had gotten a little out of hand the night before.

"Apparently, demolition on downtown Manhattan is our day job," Tony commented as he glanced out the window of his car.

Every member of the group was still nursing a serious headache when they arrived at the base. They were promptly escorted to one of the rooms used for mission briefings. Rows of chairs were all arranged around a table. The walls were flat and undecorated. Everything had the sheen of sleek metallic silver. Fury stood at the head of the table wearing his usual scowl.

Tony had taken the time to change into jeans and a t-shirt. He assumed Fury would want him wearing pants. Similarly, everyone else had transitioned into casual wear as well. There was a distinct lack of energy among the group as they all sat silently and waited for whatever Fury had to say.

For the longest time Fury just stared at them all. It felt like he was trying to burn holes into their souls. In some scenarios it might even have worked, except that everyone was still preoccupied with their physical misery.

Steve's head was resting in a trash can, doing his best not to throw up. Natasha and Clint were managing to not look one another in the eye. Thor and Tony both seemed relaxed, their constitutions more suited for hangovers (albeit for dramatically different reasons). Bruce was mostly still half-asleep.

"Are you proud of yourselves?" Fury finally asked, his voice filling the room like thunder echoing in a sound chamber. The sheer volume and intensity of it made everyone in the room cringe.

Tony looked around, "I'm a little proud of myself."

"Shut it!" if Fury could have killed Tony with a look, this would have been it.

Tony decided to try being quiet for a bit. He already hated the way it felt.

"Do any of you know what actually happened last night?" Fury continued. The question seemed more rhetorical than anything else. It made Bruce picture a principle lecturing a student.

"Why don't I show you, then? " Fury activated a holographic screen at the center of the table. A series of news clips began to play.

Times Square. New Year's Eve. A massive crowd has gathered to celebrate the holiday. People from all over the country mingle and dance and celebrate with cheer. A massive ball shines high above, prepared to drop during the countdown to midnight. Music fills the scene as lights blare on and off in tune.

The first clip is a series of cell phone videos. A bachelorette party laughs as their group walks down the street. Six girls, all in their twenties, and all very pretty. The bride wears a tiara and white dress, all the others wear matching pink cocktail dresses. Most of them show a little too much leg or cleavage.

"You will not believe this!" the maid of honor, a brunette with a spray on tan, says into her own camera phone. Then she rotates the view.

Captain America himself is dancing in tune to the music. Then he sheds the mask and tosses it away. The gyration of his hips makes it perfectly clear that he is stripping for the bride. The bride stuffs a dollar bill into his pants.

A brief interruption of static announces the next clip. A newswoman is standing on a street corner. She has large eyes and delicate features, her face looking like sharp and beautiful glass.

Bright lights flash in the background. Loud techno music vaguely thumps into the scene and reverberates into the audio. Clearly she is standing outside of a happening club, a line of hopeful patrons extending down the street. The newswoman wears a well-practiced smile.

"We are standing here on New Year's Eve at-"

Her rehearsed speech is quickly interrupted as a bright yellow Nerf dart slams right between her eyes. The camera pans over to a nearby rooftop, where Clint and Natasha are holding toy weapons. Natasha fires another shot that barrels straight into the lens of the camera.

Three clips move by, each showing newscasters being attacked by Clint and Natasha with their weapons. They laugh the entire time. Always firing from sniper perches on rooftops.

The next clip shows a rodeo going on somewhere on the outskirts of the city. There is a massive arena paved with even layers of dirt, bleachers extending out to house several hundred people. A cowboy rides a bull for a handful of seconds before being thrown into the crowd. Afterwards, the bull is corralled while the man recovers.

Fireworks go off in the sky. The colors cast a beautiful series of shades across the shifting crowd. The announcer begins again, his old voice deep and throaty, accented by a thick Southern drawl. "Ladies and gentleman, next up we have… what the hell is that?"

Everyone in the bleachers looks up as something falls from the sky. It lands at the center of the arena in a jarring impact. All of the seats vibrate briefly. Dust billows up into the air and obscures any view of what's happening. As the dust settles, the Hulk is sitting in the middle of the arena looking stunned and dazed. Thor is right beside him.

The crowd goes wild, thinking this is part of the show. They begin to clap and cheer and hoot with unbridled joy. One of the fireworks technicians decides to go with it, and begins to set off fireworks again.

The Hulk, agitated by all the sound and light, roars furiously.

Thor sees the danger and quickly tries to subdue the beast. He takes hold of the Hulk's throat with Mjolnir and tries a sleeper hold. The Hulk begins to buck wildly in response, and starts trying to throw Thor off.

Still oblivious to the terrible danger this presents, the announcer begins narrating the event.

"It looks like we got ourselves a _real _rodeo now!"

The final clip begins playing. Another newscaster, this one a middle aged man with perfectly-coiffed hair and a big toothy smile, is at Times Square. His suit is crisp and his demeanor is friendly in an overly professional sort of manner.

"It has certainly been an interesting night, as reports come from all over the city seeming to indicate that every single member of the Avengers has been going on one kind of drunken stupor or another.

"We are hearing of the agents codenamed Hawkeye and Black Widow 'assassinating' newscasters with children's toys, Captain America performing in a strip show, and Thor riding the Hulk at the rodeo center. Meanwhile, Ironman and any other agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. seem to be missing altogether.

"Still, I think it is important to remember that these people saved our city only a few short months ago, and it is New Years. Don't they deserve to let off a little steam? There have been no injuries as a result of any of these incidents, and minimal property damage. I'd say we should just let them have a little fun."

After this brief speech, they go into their countdown coverage for New Years. The entire crowd stares up at the ball from the center of Times Square and chants down to the year 2013.

10...

The ball begins to descend.

9...

It drops further.

8...

Everyone in the country watches.

7...

And then, a bright light begins to streak across the horizon.

6...

The light gets closer and closer, until it can finally be identified as-

5...

-Ironman, flying straight towards Times Square.

4...

He arrives and begins to hover just below the ball.

3...

The crowd cheers for him, until he grabs hold of the ball and begins to fly away with it.

2...

"New Years is cancelled! This is mine!" he calls out, disappearing into the distance.

1...

The crowd looks more than a little shocked. This is how 2013 began - with Ironman stealing the ball from Times Square.

The holographic display shuts down and leaves everyone silent in the conference room.

Director Fury paces back and forth. He looks as though he might be ready to throw them all in prison.

"No one knows what happened after that, all of you pretty much disappeared until Agent Hill called me this morning," Fury explained.

"I'm thinking no one should ever know what happened after that," Agent Barton suggested.

"Agreed," Natasha nodded.

"I'm not so sure-" Tony began, before Natasha kicked him in the shin under the table.

Fury continued as if no one had spoken, "You all are supposed to be heroes. You're supposed to be the examples that everyone tries to live up to. Do you know what Spider-Man was doing last night? He was helping out at a soup kitchen downtown! Maybe we should make him an Avenger; he seems to know what that stands for better than any of you. Next year, I sincerely hope you do better."

Then, that said, Fury walked out of the room, leaving the rest of the team alone.

No one spoke for a while. Clint and Natasha continued to not make eye contact. Thor mostly just looked tired. Steve did his best to ignore his first actual headache in seventy years. Bruce appeared horrified at the notion that he'd become the Hulk again the night before. Tony seemed about normal, long ago used to the sensation of a solid hangover.

"So, shawarma?" Tony asked.

After a long pause, Bruce replied, "I could eat."

"Us too," Natasha and Clint both nodded.

Steve shrugged. Thor smiled.

Tony stood up, "Great. I'm buying. Since some small part of last night may or may not have been my fault."

**The End (of 2012)**


End file.
